


Panis Angelicus

by Eureka234



Category: Baldur's Gate
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Families of Choice, POV Third Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-05
Updated: 2017-11-05
Packaged: 2019-01-29 20:40:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12638748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eureka234/pseuds/Eureka234
Summary: My interpretation of Khalid and Jaheira meeting the player character from Khalid's POV. Drabble.





	Panis Angelicus

**Author's Note:**

> I had this image in my head of the relationship that Khalid and Jaheira have, and how that impacts the main character of Badlur's Gate, hence writing this. It expands and deviates from the game dialogue. Player character is the one myself and my partner are using. 
> 
> The title is based off a latin religious song. I am fond of the cover by Celtic Woman here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nzTjY79nGRE  
> I think the latin sound fits Baldur's Gate well.

The married couple listened absently to the music of the Friendly Arm Inn from their table, having heard the same song for the third time in the past week. Their efforts to make acquaintance with new allies were in vain so far. The young pupil of their friend Gorion, Plaide, had not behaved how they had expected. She was spirited, seemingly impulsive and uncaring about her appearance. Not only that, she was rude upon introducing herself, so they’d adjourned until the travellers had rested. The fact Gorion had died certainly had something to do with her mood swing, yet it was still unpleasant.

Now the young woman had returned, accompanied with family friend Imoen, although they were not much higher in spirits.

“Good evening,” Khalid welcomed them warmly.

Plaide gave a small smile as she sat down. She had not cleaned herself like they had thought. Her hair looked unbrushed, greasy and dirt was visible under her nails and on her neck. She wore a deep maroon cloak, which blended well with the oak of the inn, the crimson rug and table cloth. Imoen, on the other hand, had changed her gown and looked modest yet lovely.

“Don’t be so rude,” Imoen hissed.

“Sorry,” Plaide gave a forced apology.

“It is something we can overlook,” Jaheira said, “provided the recent turmoil.”

“Wow, I am starving. What food do you recommend?” Imoen asked, enthused.

“The bread is pleasant enough, and the lamb,” Khalid said. He peered at his wife, suddenly faltering in confidence, though she nodded.

"P-Plaide, my dearest Jaheira and I were c-c-contemplating a p-possible change to your... c-c-c-circumstances."

"Yeah?" Plaide asked. “Is it going to be good?”

Khalid looked uncertain. "I c-c-certainly hope so."

"We are grieving as you are, that you have lost an important authority figure," Jaheira said, "The title is not accurate to describe what Gorion meant to you, or what he meant to us."

"Our families were also a-absent from our lives," Khalid said, "whether e-emotionally or p-p-physically. We would like to say we... u-understand, well, perhaps we understand. In a different way to yourself. Our b-babbling is intended to be a k-kind gesture."

Plaide looked at them, partially dumbfounded. "That's nice. I mean, it's weird and unexpected… but nice. Everything happened so quickly."

"Y-Yes, it has," Khalid agreed, giving his wife a wary look. "It has been tiresome and chaotic for us too, very much so."

"I have heard that families can create a collective strength," Jaheira said, "Do you know of this superstition?"

"People say it. I don't know if it's true…” Plaide reflected on it. “Gorion made me feel... normal."

Her gaze turned to the steaming food at the other tables.

"You have a lot of resilience to make it this far," Khalid acknowledged, with what he hoped was a gentle smile.

"And this journey will ask of our every moral fibre," Jaheira said, "That is why I would like to propose a plan."

Khalid felt nervous. "It is o-open to direction, suggestion and opposition."

"What?" Plaide asked. "Do I need to sell my body to make some gold?"

"None of that," Jaheira said, "though if you suggest it so..."

"My wife... she's trying to be funny, you see," Khalid said hastily.

"You're making a big deal out of it,” Plaide snapped. “Tell me already."

"You have too much of Imoen in you," Khalid sighed.

“No she doesn’t,” Imoen mouthed.

"Dear?"

"Gorion was your foster father, and now he is gone," Jaheira spoke over them, "We would like to offer our position as replacement foster figures, mother and father, only if you wish. We could be foster aunt and uncle, if that is more suitable. Or much older brother and sister."

 _Maybe not elder siblings,_ Khalid thought.

"What?” Plaide sounded confused, “like foster foster parents?"

"Yes, in a way," Jahiera said, "Foster relatives of an indeterminate nature. To demonstrate how much we care about you, we double swear it on our hearts."

"How does that-"

"You may think about it and offer your response when you are able," Khalid said, "We think it may help our team morale. Or we can try it, in any case."  

"For the group," Jaheira said.

"I hardly even know you," Plaide said, "No, I have known you for one drink."

"Was it not similarly when Gorion raised you?" Jaheira probed.

"Dear, stop," Khalid cut across her.

"I need to pack my things," Plaide said. She looked upset. "I really don't want to think about families right now. Sorry. Bye."

She raised from her seat, almost knocking it over. Without hesitating, she stormed away. 

“Plaide, wait!” Imoen called after her. “This really isn’t necessary.” She gave an apologetic look to the couple. “I will bring her back!”

“Please do,” Jaheira said.

The two girls disappeared for the second time, nearly pushing some plates off a table they were rushing so much. As they went up the stairs and out of sight, Khalid felt like his hopes were running with them. He wanted to blame his wife's poor social skills for Plaide leaving, though the outcome probably wasn't going to be much different if he had taken the lead. In combat, her forthright approach had saved their lives too many times to count. It had its uses, even if that wasn't right now.

"We tried," he sighed.

"Not the right amount," Jaheira said.

"Sometimes trying is taking a step back and doing little," Khalid said, "We will see. Just don't make her u-u-upset even more. It will defeat the purpose of this entire.... p-proposition."

“She is resisting us,” Jaheira said

“It was an admirable effort, none the less,” Khalid said. “P-Perhaps I should apologize again for s-suggesting it.”

“No,” Jaheira cut across him. “It is useless to beg. It detracts from our task. We wait, and if the trust is rebuilt, perhaps there will be clues to Plaide’s loyalties.”

“Y-Yes, dear.” Khalid appeared guilt stricken. “Is it r-right to impose our own wishes on her? After all we have been through, I do not think so.”

“We wait.” Jaheira said. “That is not imposing our ideals.”

“W-we should wait a few weeks, I think, before bringing it up again. It will be a long wait. Or if she refuses still, if a family means so much to you, you may…” he lowered his voice, not wanting to suggest his idea again. It seemed his wife already guessed what he would say. 

“You are kind hearted and benevolent.” Jaheira didn’t meet his eyes, though Khalid knew she was sad. “Though my duty to my life with you has not altered. You are my chosen. If you cannot plant your child in me, nobody does.”

These conversations had gone in circles for the past number of years. Perhaps Khalid hoped that after enough time Jaheira would attempt something new to allay her grief of rejecting motherhood. The familiar guilt stirred in him. He was quite sure he was the one who could not impregnate her, rather than his wife being to blame, as she had been pregnant once in the past, and he felt like a failure as a man for that. There was no simple manner to resolve such concerns. The timing was no longer ideal with so much danger and darkness following them, though it made them want to cherish whatever life they could while it lasted. 

He sighed, scorning himself for not knowing better.

Waiting was a course of action.


End file.
